


One More Resurrection

by geeky__chick



Series: One More Resurrection [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst and a little smut, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, But they're here anyway, F/M, Fix It Fic, Loki and Valkyrie suck at feelings, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 02:30:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14607294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geeky__chick/pseuds/geeky__chick
Summary: The Valkyrie returns to the wreckage of the Asgardian ship and finds that Loki had one more trick up his sleeve, after all.





	One More Resurrection

**Author's Note:**

> I am seriously addicted to this ship. 
> 
> Enjoy!

With the rest of her few, so few, people still hurtling toward Earth, the Valkyrie piloted her stolen _Commodore_ toward the last known coordinates of the _Frigga_. Her king had ordered her to lead the people away from the battle, but he’d not told her to remain gone. She could not abandon them outright, it wasn’t in her blood, not since the king and prince rekindled her love of Asgard.

Hours after their initial departure, she found Ravager signatures on her long-range sensors. That meant, of course, that the danger had passed. Ravagers weren’t the type to fight a Titan for a few pieces of scrap metal.

She ordered the others to continue, taking the Grandmaster’s vessel since it would be fastest. Surely, she would find only lifeless remains and twisted metal, but she had to at least attempt recovering the king’s body and the prince’s. If nothing else, she would give them both the honor of a proper funeral, say prayers over their souls as they traveled to Valhalla.

When she reached the wreckage, Brunnhilde pushed aside the part of her that mourned the loss. It would do her no good to dwell on the past, on what might have been.

They hadn’t been in the midst of a grand romance, she reminded herself. The God of Mischief only sauntered his way into her bed because they were limited as to option and the curiosity was almost too intense to bear. Boredom, she added with a smile, he always claimed boredom when he knocked upon her door.

And yet…for all her assurances they hadn’t had anything more than sex in common, Hilde found her heart ached as she searched the vacuum of space with short-range sensors.

A thousand Asgardian souls had perished here at the hands of the Mad Titan. The imprint of so much death, such sorrow and loss, remained on the very space the bodies buoyed in. The Valkyrie hoped they had gone to Valhalla, that volunteering as a distraction had been enough. Their bodies now littered the wreckage, bloodless and cold. Had she the room and the time, Brunnhilde would spent as much of it as she could here, giving each soul the funeral rites of their home.

But time and space were no longer her own.

She did say the prayers as she found each body, moving around them with care she knew the Ravagers had not. There was little evidence of the scavengers, but they might have been frightened by the echo of malice in the very air.

The epicenter of massacre remained the least intact. Bulkheads were blasted apart, consoles and body parts floating in silence. She found the body of Heimdall and hauled it aboard, knowing the king would wish it.

Where was he? Where was the king?

Brunnhilde continued to search, finding a long, thick piece of flooring that floated alone to the edge of the debris field. With her space suit and rebreather still attached, the Valkyrie peered onto the screen, trying to determine what lay on that piece of wreckage.

It was the hand that gave away the identity.

“Loki.”

Her hand slammed into the controls of the bay doors, opening her ship to the vacuum of space. Brunnhilde launched herself from the platform, darting with the oppressive silence surrounding her. Breath echoed in her own ears, too loud, as she reached that piece of debris, found the broken body lying on it.

He hadn’t gone peacefully. Brunnhilde swallowed hard, containing her emotions the best she could. Seeing his blood-frozen body, the fear etched into his death shroud, the hand print on his clothing that betrayed his brother had watched him die again…

Brunnhilde pulled Loki’s body into her arms with infinite care, pushing off of that broken floor to send them both back into the ship.

She laid him on the floor of the bay, closing the doors and removing her mask. The frozen features of a man she’d barely known stared back at her, his silence so much more painful than that of the death-littered space beyond her ship. 

On her knees, Brunnhilde reached up with trembling hands, brushing the crystalline hair from his violet cheeks. His eyes remained open, the blood frozen in them a clear sign of how the Titan had killed him.

Wetness dropped onto his icy chest, melting the fabric only a little. Brunnhilde gasped, realizing her tears had fallen onto him. One hand drifted to her cheek, stopping just short of brushing the tears away. Instead, she reached for his face, resting her palm on his forehead.

“Loki.”

As she let the first sob erupt from her throat, a strange sensation burrowed into her pocket. The Valkyrie sat back, searching through her clothing for the warmth she could feel growing hotter somewhere buried within.

At last, a small emerald fell into her palm, the light inside of it pulsing mildly, as though searching. Brunnhilde peered into the stone, the light within, wondering at how the little thing had found its way into her clothes.

A beat later, it flew from her hand, landing with eerie precision on the chest of the dead man before her. Brunnhilde blinked as the stone melted, its green energy erupting from the center to cover Loki’s prone form with light.

Seconds later, the body lying so cold before her jerked. Loki sat up, gasping for air, flailing as he tried to fight off that last memory, of his death.

“Loki!” Brunnhilde called his name, dodging the fists he threw out to protect himself as she struggled to grasp at some part of him, to bring his mind into sync with his body. “Loki, it’s me! It’s Hilde!”

He turned those crimson-stained eyes to her, the expression softening almost immediately. She startled when her lover grasped her to him, holding her against his thawing chest. Brunnhilde, overcome with the emotions she hadn’t time to process, clutched at him in response.

“You’re alright.” The Valkyrie whispered. “You’re alright.”

~**~

Hours after his resurrection, Brunnhilde watched as Loki devoured all the food he could get his hands on. No magic was without its faults and resurrection claimed more energy than any other. She stood at the far side of the mess hall, leaning against the wall with her arms woven tight across her chest.

Loki, his healing finished, now resembled more of the last time she’d seen him. A shower and fresh clothing had gone a long way in restoring some of his humanity, the food would finish the job.

“How?”

Neither had spoken in the long hours since he woke, even as he cared for himself and Brunnhilde incinerated Heimdall’s corpse with prayers for his safe travels to the hall of Odin. She barked the word so sharply, the prince jumped in his seat.

Loki finished chewing, turning his sapphire eyes to where she stood. The chair groaned as he sat back, the poor thing unaccustomed to the weight of a Frost Giant. She could decipher only a few of the emotions that played in that familiar gaze, chief among them _glee_.

“I had a source who insisted I had a part to play and that if Thanos insisted on offing me to gain his precious stone, you would be the perfect vessel to bring me back.”

“Vessel?” Brunnhilde lifted a brow.

Loki had the grace to appear at least mildly chagrined. “I was instructed to tell no one until Thor had been delivered to the hands of those he needed to be. He could not be distracted by a quest to find me, to restore me.”

She said nothing, pinning him with a bland stare.

“I thought you might actually want me alive,” Loki said with a hint of sarcasm. “Perhaps I was mistaken.”

“I don’t like being lied to, even by omission.”

Silence fell between them, pregnant with a thousand things neither had said, or even thought. Brunnhilde averted her gaze after a moment, uncomfortable with the tears she had shed over his corpse and the pain that lanced at her without warning.

Seeing him there, frozen in death, had threatened to break something inside of her she’d given no permission to grow in the first place.

A shimmer of magic caught the corner of her eye and Brunnhilde braced herself for Loki’s touch. He appeared before her, a hand touching her shoulder as he trapped her between his body and the wall.

“Stop.” Brunnhilde ordered quietly.

Loki lifted his hand from her flesh immediately, allowing it to fall at his side.

“My source did not tell me this would hurt you.”

Contrition had bled into his voice. Brunnhilde lifted her gaze to meet his, startled to find pain reflecting there. She swallowed thickly, shifting her weight on the balls of her feet, preparing to leave the room. If there was a plan, they were obviously going to have to follow it.

“I planted the stone on you,” Loki continued before she could move. “Because I trusted none other to come back for me. For my body.”

Brunnhilde pushed away from the wall, satisfied when he stepped away to release her. She sidled around him, striding toward the door of the mess hall with her back straight. Her words went over her shoulder, unable to face him.

“I came back to give you funeral rites, nothing more.”

He was quiet for a beat and when he spoke, his tone was quiet, questioning.

“Then why are there tear stains on my shirt?”

Silence again.

Brunnhilde lifted her hand to open the door, hesitating before she could push the buttons. Her eyes closed, recalling with perfect clarity the moment she’d cried over him. She could still see it, his red-violet face, the blood in his eyes, ice inducing a blue tinge to his skin. He had died and she mourned him.

“Brunnhilde.”

She shivered at the whisper of her name. How? How had he slid in beyond her defenses? She hadn’t given him the time, or the space, only the use of her body. _How?_

He had stepped up behind her, the warmth of his resurrected body tangible against her back. Brunnhilde knew better than to ignore the pull, the tether that now seemed linking her ribcage to his. He stood behind her, not touching since she’d told him not to, but close enough that his cool breath shifted the fine hairs at the base of her neck.

Brunnhilde turned toward him, their eyes locking together almost immediately.

“Losing you,” she said haltingly. “It hurt.”

His hand drifted up, slowly, so she could anticipate his touch. Brunnhilde leaned into his palm as it cupped her cheek, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment to relish the familiarity of his palm.

She grasped at his clean shirt, without the signature leathers covering it, pulling him down until he kissed her. Loki’s mouth moved over hers eagerly, tasting, testing, _remembering_.

They fell on one another as though starving. Hilde tore his shirt in two as Loki simply used a gesture of his hand to remove hers. Trembling fingers pulled at the laces of his breeches while her lover preferred to take a dagger from his place between worlds, splitting hers down the thigh.

In seconds they were bare before one another and Loki lifted her into his arms.

He pressed her into the closed door, the metal cool against skin suddenly set aflame. His hand delved between her legs, stroking as her body responded to him almost without coaxing. Brunnhilde buried her face in the juncture between his neck and shoulder, inhaling the scent of him, nibbling on that fragrant flesh eagerly.

They had no time for slow, for making love. Loki sheathed himself inside of her a heartbeat after they began, their twin groans echoing in the empty mess. Brunnhilde locked her legs around his slender waist, her hands finding purchase on those muscled shoulders as he moved inside of her.

She threw her head back at the pleasure of him. Their gazes snapped together, neither blinking, as though terrified if they did, the other would vanished.

Flesh met flesh in a rapid tattoo that filled the room. Brunnhilde grunted his name, pressure building in her belly until she thought she might die of it.

Loki’s body shook against hers, his resurrection still so new as he pounded inside of her. She would feel him for hours, for days, _forever_ , if he continued this way. They raced toward climax together, the only accompaniment to the striking of skin their gasps for breath.

Her lover panted her name as they crested, their bodies going rigid against one another. Loki lifted one hand from where it bruised her hips to brace on the wall, keeping them upright when the shifting of blood threatened to drop them both onto the chilled floor.

They remained wrapped together for several moments, basking in the confusion of their reunion and what it would mean for them.

“We have to get to Earth.” Loki panted, finally. “I’d love to stay this way with you, my dear, but we are on a tight schedule.”

“And yet.” Hilde teased, looking down to where he was softening inside of her. “You made time for this.”

Loki’s answering smirk was positively feral. “Well, I couldn’t let you stay angry with me. We have work to do.”

Brunnhilde rolled her eyes toward the ceiling with a sigh. “Get us dressed, then, and tell me your plan.”

His talented hands shifted through the air, replacing torn items of clothing and even cleaning her skin for good measure. Brunnhilde kissed his bruised lips as they untangled themselves amid the magic and headed for the cockpit.

“First things first, we need to get to Earth and find the Avengers.”

Brunnhilde slid into her pilot’s seat, tapping buttons as the engines roared back to life.

“Earth it is, my Prince.”

It was Loki’s turn to roll his eyes as he strapped himself into the co-pilot’s seat.


End file.
